


This High Off the Ground

by mizufallsfromkumo



Series: Gravity [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Chases, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Missing Persons, Past Torture, Psychological Trauma, Running Away, Secrets, Sneaking Around, Trauma, mentions of Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizufallsfromkumo/pseuds/mizufallsfromkumo
Summary: A pro of being Batman’s partner, was he knew how to hide from him well enough.A con of being Batman’s partner, was he knew how to hide from him well enough.





	This High Off the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a new story I have. Because you know it's not like I am writing a chapter of Dead Birds Don't Sing every weekend. Nah...what's another thing to write. 
> 
> No, actually this is an idea I've had before I ever got the idea for Dead Birds Don't Sing, and I've finally sat down to start writing it (Or one version of it, because it branched from it's self and I like both ideas...but I don't think I will write the other one...yet...). And I am rather excited with how it is going.
> 
> It is also a one-shot series. Meaning each piece will be it's own thing, in relationship. I should make it all one thing, but the plot jumps around too much for one fic. Plus how I want to tell it kind of feels aided by it being a one-shot collection that I can put in order later... And I like doing series, I haven't done one in a while.
> 
> So I hope you enjoy.

Dick needed space.

_ A lot _ of space.

His latest argument with Bruce had not been a pretty one in the least.  Lots of heated words and brash stubbornness colliding.  Things were said, things that stung and hurt, that couldn’t be taken back.  Though probably regretted in given time, but currently still felt valid and necessary.

Bruce fired him being Robin, and Dick decided that maybe he didn’t want to  _ be _ Robin anymore.  And they fought and argued.  And Bruce threw him out, and Dick agreed he didn’t want to be there and left.  

Dick needed space, and time to think and figure some things out.  And that’s what he was going to get.

But he didn’t want Bruce to know where he was.

If Bruce wanted him gone, he would disappear. 

A pro of being Batman’s partner, was he knew how to hide from him well enough.  

* * *

Dick realized it too late.

But a con of being Batman’s partner, was he knew how to hide from him well enough.

* * *

Panting he dropped down into an alley, hurriedly.  

The sharp sound of the rubber soul of his...extremely “burrowed” shoes catching against the concrete as he scurried the cover was all there was to announce he was there.  His landing at the ground was light and soundless.  Something he could pat himself on the back for later.

Later, when he wasn’t being chased and hunted down.

He crouched tightly in the shadow a building’s fire escape.  Cramming himself between two large dumpers and a few discarded wooden crates.  His eyes scanning the darkening night sky through the openings of the fire escape that both hiding him and obscuring his view.  Watching for any dark figure that might of followed him after him.

Something he doubted.  

He was pretty sure he rendered one of his chasers unconscious, and left the other dazed with perhaps a slight concussion.  And no doubt given them and anyone else who might have been with them the slip five minutes ago.  

But he needed to be sure. So he watched and waited.

Waited for the worst, but hoping that universe might give him a break.

After all he was sore and tired.  He had been going non stop for weeks.  He could barely remembered the last time he ate a full meal of actual substance.  It was probably back at a soup kitchen in Chicago weeks ago.  Nor he could he remember the last time he slept more than one continuous hour. 

Not to mention the cut on his bicep still burned.

_ Shit _ , the cut on his bicep.

Turning sharply to look at his right arm. He hissed as he saw the sight of the cut in the arm of his...again extremely “borrowed” hoodie, and peeled it back the fabric to look at the wound.

The cut was shallow enough not to need stitches, but deep enough to need some attention later.  When he was confident he was safe enough to do that.  But the bleeding seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed enough it wasn’t an immediate concern.  It still burned though like it was fresh.

He was positive there wasn’t some lingering poison.  Or at least nothing that would actually kill him.   No he was still too valuable to the people after him for them to afford to accidentally kill him, just perhaps incapacitated him for a few days.  

That was something he could still count on.

Not that he wanted to.

Panic suddenly surged forward up into his throat.  

Suddenly he was aware of how loud he was still panting.  Along with how deafening the sound of his own racing heartbeat was in his ears as it hammered in his chest.  

It’s all too loud, they hear him.  Hear him and find him and take him back.  

His hands are shaking like leaves against the cold metal of the dumpster.  Panic was gripping his throat as panting breath seemed to stumble over itself.  His vision blurred and his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.  

The familiar tingle in the back of skull and his fingers growing.

No he couldn’t lose control.  

Not now.  Not here.  Not when he was so close.

“Keep it together, Grayson.”  He hissed to himself sharply.  He curled against the wall of the building and the dumpster.  Focusing on the cool feel of metal against his left side, and staring down at his shaking hands.  “Keep it together.  You’ve been through worse.”

Yeah, he had been through worse, as Robin.  

But he wasn’t Robin anymore.  He wasn’t exactly sure  _ what _ he was any more, if he was being honest.

Dick’s plan of running away to become his own hero, in his own city, and show Bruce he wasn’t a kid anymore had been ruined.  Smashed in half, eight months ago with a chloroform soaked cloth.  Five months of...pain, experiments, and general hell, hoping that Bruce, or his team, or someone would just find him, shattered it even more.

And the last three months had been non-stop running after he managed to escape his capture.  He was being chased and hunted by the shadows non-stop.  Given no time to even think about what Nightwing would even be.  Let alone  _ be _ Nightwing.

The only thing he did know was he needed to calm down.

He did his best to slow his breath.  Remember old exercises Bruce taught him years ago to calm himself down.  He kept his gaze on his hands, as he mental pushed back against the panic as best he could.  Mental repeating the was going to fine, he escaped their grasp many times before, he could do it again.

Eventually, Dick’s hands stopped shaking, and his breath eased back into normalcy.  His heart slowed as relief washed over him.  The tingling in his fingers and skull faded back into nothing.

Dick let out a breath of relief.  Collapsing against the dumpster with a small twang of metal.

After a few moments passed, the acrobat carefully peeked out of his hiding spot.  Slowly he eased out of his spot.  

He glanced up at the night sky above him, for any shadowy figure moving along the rooftops.  Then he scanned the alley way around him.  On the off chance that someone had managed to slip into hiding in his panic.  

To his relief he found he was alone.

Dick cautiously made his way towards the street at the mouth of the alley.  Keeping to the growing shadows as he neared.  He adjusted the baseball cap on his head, pulling it lower over his face as he peeked out the alley way.  

Nothing more than a handful of normal people walking around.  Either heading home from work or dinners, or just starting their evening adventure.  No one he could make out to be an assassin or mercenary trying to blend in with the crowd to catch him.

Dick pulled the hood of his jacket up as he moved to fall in step with a group of teenagers.  They were too busy discussing their excitement for some new movie they were going to see to even noticed Dick tack onto their group.  

Nor did anyone else.  

A few passing adults glared at them as they passed.  But it was more because the group was a loud collection of teenagers, than the fact that Dick kept carefully adjusting his hood to hide his face.  Only one old man gave Dick a pointed look, that Dick quickly ducked away from sheepishly.  He split off from the group quickly the next street over after that.

Dick continued walking for two more blocks, before he stopped. He sighed as he glanced up the names of the street corner he was at.  He had no idea where he was.

Well he knew he was in Metapolis.  

It was just  _ where _ in Metapolis he was lost on.

Dick glanced up at the tall building behind him.  Frowning as he realize he could probably easily figure out where he was and were to go if he went to the rooftops.  He’s just find the Daily Planet building and easily figure out a route.  

But he can’t go on the rooftops.  They would find him easily that way.  

On the street, Dick could blend in far easier.  Disappear into a crowd a lot quicker than jumping around rooftop to rooftop.

His options on the ground were limited.  He didn’t have much money to use cab, or the bus.  He barely had pocket change.  Nor did he know the Metropolis’ public transport system to effectively use it.  Asking someone for directions was out the question.  

Even though that chances of anyone recognizing him as Dick Grayson, missing ward of Bruce Wayne, where slim,  Dick didn’t want to risk it.  Because that could end up being a huge fuse if that happens.  And he would no doubt that before Bruce could even Zeta over, or give Clark word, they would find him and capture him.  Dick was not going to back, not when he was so close to help.

There was the option of silently calling out to Clark.

The Kryptonian would no doubt hear him and come running.  Or flying, to his aid.  He would be there in a heartbeat.  Rush Dick back off to his apartment, or Gotham if Dick asked.  But the idea of Superman just dropping out the sky on a random street corner, and flying off with some random teen would no doubt raise a few eyebrows.

Not to mention, Clark would probably fuss.  

Probably right there on the street, in front of everyone.

Dick was hardly what he was when he first left Bruce all those months ago.  He knew he was at least ten pounds underweight for lack of constant eating for the past three months.  Paler than normal, with horrible bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.  Not to mention a collection of new scars that he wasn’t going to talk about  _ how _ he got them.  The last thing he needed was to have a panic attack and lose control around Superman.

That was, of course, if Clark was even in Metropolis.

Biting his lip, groaned at his options.  None of them were statically an option he wanted to make.  The teen decided it was the best idea to bite the bullet and take a risk.

There was small corner cafe on the other side of the street.  A small section of tables outside, with a few people choosing to enjoy the cool evening air.  Two business people typing away at a computers, and a group of three what looked to be college age adults studying away with a collection of caffeinated Dicks.  If anyone was going to let him touch their electronics it would be the college kids.

In fact two of them practically melt at his made up story of wandering off from his uncle and getting completely lost in the city.  The third gave him a mildly annoyed look, but did offer up their computer to get direction.  And none of them recognize him.

Dick did his best to quickly memorize the directions to the address he typed in.  It wasn’t too difficult for him, and he had mostly done it before someone gave him a slip of paper to scribble down directions.  He closed out of the map quickly and returned the annoyed one’s computer with a small thanks.  He dashed off before one of them could hand him some money for bus fair.

It took him thirty minutes to follow the directions.  He sourly thought he could have shaved off a good fifteen minutes if he went along rooftops.  And ten if he hadn’t looped around twice along the way.   But the ground wasn’t terrible if he ignored the way his whole body ached.

A sense of relief washed over himself as he reached the building address.  Only for a brief moment before the paranoia set in again.  He glanced around quickly, as he approached the doors of the apartment building.  Carefully scanning the rooftops and people walking by, but noticed nothing to suggest anyone was following him.

Dick casually pretended to tie his shoe against some of the molding of the building as a middle aged woman left with a dog.  She thankfully walked in the opposite direction he was in, giving him a clear chance to grab the door before it closed and slip inside.

Sneaking past the attendit in the small area someone might call a lobby was easy.  Though Dick was pretty sure he could have just waltzed right in, and the addentit wouldn’t have even batted an eye at him.  He quickly made his way into an elevator, pushing the button for the correct level.

Not a single soul was out in the hallway when the elevator doors opened.  Dick still ran to the correct apartment like every door was going to open up and have a Shadow jump out for him.

He pressed his ear against the door, straining his ear for any sound within the apartment.  He didn’t hear any, meaning Clark was likely not home. Given the time of night that was still completely possible.  

Dick glanced around the hallway once more, before dropping to pick the lock with the paperclip and bobby pin he had in his hoodie pocket.  

He wasn’t going to bother to knock figuring no one was home.  Not that he probably could have if Clark was home anyway.  Clark would probably figure it was Dick before he managed to pick the lock.

As Dick carefully twisted the lock free and turned the knob to open the door, he was hit by a new sort of panic.   _ What if Clark moved? _

After all it had been eight months...or at least Dick was pretty sure it had been eight months, since he was last in Metropolis.  That way more than enough time for someone to up and decided to move.  Meaning Dick just broke into some random person’s house.

“Please still live here,”  Dick whispered as he peeked through the door.  

The light of the hallway catching the familiar decor Dick remembered for Clark’s apartment.  Like his weird little rooster hook from home. His favorite overcoat on an old worn coat hanger.   And the weird painting of cows Lois got him as a joke once.

Dick let out a breath he didn’t realize he started to hold.  Quickly he pushed into the apartment.  Closing and locking the door instantly behind him, allowing himself to lean against it for a moment to collect himself.

He could feel the familiar tingle in his fingers.  He hadn’t noticed it before, and maybe it hadn’t be there before.  But it was there now.  Quickly he willed it away slightly, shoving everything back just enough that the floors wouldn’t creek..

Silently, Dick made his way into the apartment.  It was completely empty as he figured before he entered.  The lack of keys on the rooster hook told Dick, that Clark was currently not out as Superman.  Or at least, hadn’t returned home and gone back out as Superman.  Which thankfully gave Dick some time to get himself sorted before Clark came back through the front door.

It was just a matter of figure what to do first.

Dick turned to glance at the wound on his arm.  Peeling back the torn fabric, the wound had stopped bleeding.  It dully ached rather than burned when it was still fresh. He figured that was likely the first thing he should take care of.

He made his way over to the bathroom, praying that Clark had a first aid kit.  To his luck, the reporter did.  It was completely unopened, but there under the sink behind some cleaning supplies.  

The acrobat peeled off his hoodie and ignored the way he looked in the mirror.  Quickly getting to work cleaning and treating the cut.  Finding it was perhaps a little worse than he had originally thought.  But still didn’t require stitches.

Once he was done with that, he slipped back into his hoodie and made his way to the kitchen.  There he found some old chinese take out to eat, and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth.  

He grabbed a fork the draw, and a steak knife from Clark’s set on the counter, before he walked over to the couch.  

Carefully, Dick situated himself on the couch.  Cramming himself into the corner of the couch by the window.  A place that give him an easy defense to someone coming through the window, and an easy escape if someone busted down the door.  

He placed the steak knife beside on the side table between the coach and the wall.  Curling up around the container of Chinese food.  He paced himself eating as best he could.  It took every ounce of self control not to just devour the food in the container.  But getting sick from eating wasn’t going to help him much.

It pained Dick to put the container down on the coffee table.  He shoved it to the opposite corner of the coffee table. Watching it slowly glide to a stop just before the edge.

Dick grabbed the knife beside him.  Easily hiding it from view as he curled up on the couch again.  He kept his eyes fixed on the window.  

And he waited.

* * *

Something is rocking slightly.  Slowly, lightly, cautiously.  But with some growing urgency.  

And there is the distant sound of what could be his name.   Again soft and gentle.  Familiar maybe if he could figure how.  But there is an edge to it.

An edge Dick isn’t certain he liked.

Danger.  

Worry.

Panic.

Dick could feel a hand on his arms.  Slightly shaking him back into awareness. 

He must of dozed off for a bit.  Too tired, full, and comfortable to probably noticed when it was happening.  And now there was someone there ushering him awake.

_ Wait! _

Dick flipped the knife hidden against his arm into view as his eyes snapped open.  In one quick fluid motion he moved to stab whoever was shaking him.  He doesn’t care where, just as long as he caused enough pain to make them let go and he could escape.  Figure out where he was and how they found him later.

Only the hand doesn’t let go, and there sound of metal snapping fills the air.  

Dick just stared at the broken blade in torn suit fabric.  He can’t figured out how that happened.  Panic started to creep in quickly on him.  Fuck they got smart, and sent someone else after him.

He struggled slightly against the hold.  But they held fast.

The tingle in his fingers and the back of his skull starts to ignite like fire.  Dick was half tempted to give into it.

“Dick, it’s me.”  The words cut through his panic like razor.  He knows that voice.  He knows that voice won’t hurt him.  That voice is safe, and kind, and, “It’s Clark.”

Dick dropped the ruined knife like it burned as he suddenly registered it was Clark kneeling in front of him.  Staring at him with a wide, shocked expression as he held him tightly.  Worry clear in his eyes behind his glasses

Not that Dick blamed him.  Eight months ago stabbing was not his first reaction to someone waking him up.  Neither was starting to panic because a knife didn’t work.

“Sorry,”  Dick stated weakly, pulling back slightly from Clark.

“Don’t be.  Just a hole in an old suit jacket.”  Clark returned easily.  He didn’t exactly loosen his hold on Dick’s arm.  Merely shift it to something more comfortable.  “No harm, no foul.”  Clark assured lightly.  Almost like Dick use to stab him all the time.  

Dick just blinked at him for a moment.  

The tingling in the back of his skull and fingers was still burning.  He could feel it starting to leak it’s effects around him in an uncontrolled manner.  Nothing anyone would take any notice of, but it needed to stop before it got worse.  Dick needed to calm down.

Clark shifted carefully in his kneeling in front of Dick.  No doubt sensing the panicked edge to him.  Or at least hearing his hammering heartbeat and knowing there was a reason Dick just blindly attacked.  Smartly figured it was nothing good.  But that didn’t stop him from inching closer slightly, because Dick can’t hurt him.

Or rather, he  _ hadn’t been _ able to hurt him.  

That was not something Dick wanted to test at the moment.  Or ever, really.

“Dick,”  Clark started softly again.  “What are you doing here?”

“I was in town.”  Dick returned easily.  Giving Clark an easy smile.  Deciding not to go behind that fact.

Clark peered at him carefully for a moment.  Seeming to study the sight of Dick before him.  His hold not loosening on Dick’s arm, like he almost expected Dick to run away from him if he left go and disappear again for months.  And given Dick’s currently state of mentally trying to calm himself down, he didn’t blame the reporter.

He probably looked like some caged animal ready to bite given the chance.

Dick watched as he frowned slightly.

In the same disappointed and annoyed manor he frowned at Bruce when the other didn’t answer his question.  Or rather answer it with the complete truth like anyone else might do.  

Like Bat, like Robin.  Dick thought sourly even though he wasn’t Robin.

The reporter sighed after a second, and shifted to seat on the couch beside Dick.  Coming to the realization that Dick would answer his questions, but not the way he wanted.  He was going to have a just the  _ right _ question to get something.

“How did you get in my apartment?”  Clark asked simply.

“The front door.”  Dick answered.

Clark nods somberly.  

Dick half wondered if had been any other time, or the situation was different if Clark would have laughed at the words.  Because he stupidly walked into that one.  But Clark doesn’t laugh.  

He merely shifted slightly.  His glasses dropping just a fraction of an inch down his knows.  He peered over them in the way he always did when he was trying to sneakily use his x-ray vision.  

Dick shifted quickly, pulling his arm slightly against Clark’s hold.  Resisting the tingling urge to push in his panic.   Clark almost immediately adjusted his glasses into place and eased back just so.  Not completely away from Dick, and he still didn’t realise Dick’s arm.  But just enough for Dick to visibly see him stopping.

The frowned on his face did not go unmissed though.

Damn, Clark saw  _ something _ .  

Dick really hoped it was just his few healing wounds or bruises.  Or even his three broken ribs.  Because than he can just say he got in a bad fight, and Clark couldn’t argue. 

“Dick, what are you doing here in Metropolis?”  Clark asked soon after.

The young teen didn’t answer.

Mostly because he didn’t have an answer for being in Metropolis that wouldn’t set off some type of alarm bells.  Especially after he’s been missing for eight month with no contact with anyone.  Not to mention Clark would probably see through any lie of being undercover.  

So he just blinked at the reporter.

Clark sighed again after a beat of silent.

“Where had you been for the last eight months?”  Clark asked carefully.

A flash of a memory flashes before Dick’s eyes.  A blur of pain and a burning in his limbs, with distorted visuals of figures.

Panic surges forwards in his mind.

The tingling burns to an ache.

His stomach luges up into his throat.  

And he’s leaning over the edge of the couch vomiting out what little was in his stomach on the floor before he even registered it.  Sputtering and coughing as he tried to catch his ragged breath.  Which is just not happening.

Well there went his attempt at eating a solid meal right out the freaking window.

He just make out the distant sound of someone talking over his thundering heart beat.  Or maybe it was two voice.  But he can’t make out just what they are saying.  The grip on his arm was tight in a different way than before.

There’s another flash of a memory.  This time more blurred lights and pain.  A distant sound of screams.

Dick’s stomach heaved again.  

Suddenly there was a toilet under him as his stomach empty again.  This time barely any more than lingering stomach acid.  Dick gripped the edge of the seat like a lifeline as he coughed and spit the taste of vomit out of his mouth.  Willing himself to calm down with each panting breath.

He was safe now.  

He wasn’t going to ruin it because he started panicking.

The tingling slowly started to fade from his fingers.

“Conner stay with him,” Clarks voice suddenly cut through Dick’s easing panic with new found clarity.  “I’m calling Bruce.”

“Don’t!”  Dick growled out sharply.

He leaned away from the toilet as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  Collapsing against the bathroom wall with a heavy pants and small grunt.  

He turned to look at Clark and Conner, who Dick hadn’t even noticed was there in the beginning.  The two Kryptonians looking at in a mix of horror and worry.  Only Conner looked just a little more at a loss of what to do, and angry, than Clark did.  But Clark’s face was shifting into the stern pointed look Bruce never liked.

“Dick--”

“I don’t mean don’t call him,”  Dick cut off before Clark could start whatever he was going to say.  The acrobat breathed heavily for a moment as he rested his head against the wall.  “Just don’t call him directly.” Like he knew Clark was planning to do.  “Use the Watchtower and set up a secure line. And tell him we’ll meet at the Cave.”

“Dick,” Clark started.  The sharp sternness of his voice melting away into something  _ else,  _ the younger teen couldn’t quiet place.  “Is that really necessary?”

The acrobat had half the sense to argue that yes it was.  Play it off as something Batman would  _ want _ him to do.  Something in place to keep their identities hidden in place, just in case.  Like it some sort of protocol that Clark should know.  

But its not and Clark will know that.

“ _ Please _ …” Dick begged in a breath.

That seemed to melt away Clark’s firm look and morph it into full on worry.

But he at least understood that Dick is asking for a reason.  And he just had something of a panic attack from Clark so much as asking where he had been.  Even if Clark didn’t know what it was, he wasn’t about to push for it.  It wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

“Okay,” Clark said simply, before he turned to Conner.  “Stay with him.”

The clone nodded as Clark slipped past him through the bathroom door.  

Carefully he moved towards Dick.  No doubt still sensing Dick was on edge about something, and it was never good when Dick was on edge.  

He wordlessly squatted beside the acrobat.  He held out a glass of water Dick hadn’t even noticed he was holding.  God, Dick was really slipping.  The clone gave a small smile as Dick grabbed the glass with shaking hands.

Dick gulped down a third of the water hurriedly.  Turning away sharply from the look of going worry and uncertainty in his friend’s eyes.  Rather choosing to stare at the wall above the toilet as he continued to sip at the water.

Focusing the the feeling of the tingling in the back of his skull shrinking back into nothingness.  The feeling of his heart easing back into a normal rhythm.  Or the feeling of his nerves calming with every breath he took.

He let out a breath of relief once he left normal again.  Closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair.

“You okay?”  Conner asked after a few moments.

“Not really feeling the aster at the moment, but otherwise peachy.”  Dick answered with a weak attempt at a thumbs up as he turned to look at Conner.

The clone frowned at him from his spot of the floor.  His eyebrow pulling together in an angry expression.  One Dick wasn’t really sure where it was directed at, other than him in a general sense. 

“I’m fine Conner, really.”  Dick assured.

The clone grunted in return, as he moved to sit on the ground next to Dick.

“Totally fine,” Dick assured again as he started up at the ceiling.  Though this time it was more towards himself than Conner.

* * *

The sound of a phone ringing sharply startled Dick awake.

Quickly pushing himself off and away from whatever warm mass he has partially slummed against.  He fought with the sheet...no blanket, it was too thick to be a sheet, off his person.  But his legs seem to half tangle with it as he scrambled to get them underneath him.  And it almost causes him to tumble off the plush surface he was on, but he just managed to stop himself for falling.

Dick’s heart is racing.  They found him again. 

Panic rushed quickly to him.  Giving him a welcome rush of adrenaline that pushed the dullness of sleep away from him.  Shoved him into a sharp sense of awakeness.  He needed to remember where he was and figure a way out.

He found himself staring at a wall with a window.  Curtain drawn closed loosely, with a small set of shelves underneath it.  To nice to be in some abandoned building that he found and crashed in for shelter.  They actually looked like furnishings someone used.  Which caused his brows to pull together in confusion.

Something touched his right shoulder lightly.

_ A hand _ his brain suddenly supplied.

Dick turned sharply.  Knocking the arm arm away with his right arm, and catching the wrist in the follow through.  His left hand flying to the person chest as he twisted on the balls of his feet.  Dick pushed down roughly with all of his weight and then some.  Causing the person to grunt slightly as they collide heavily against the back of the couch and wall creating a loud thump.

Dick started to push down against the person’s chest.  Feeling the tingle in his fingers as he added just a little more pressure against the person’s chest.

Then he sudden registered the red Superman insignia on a black shirt.

Dick looked up to see Conner’s blinking at him in shock and confusion.  He turned to a small sound to his left. Only to find Clark staring at him with wide eyes and a phone to his ear.  Dick glanced between the two hurriedly.

“Dick...you okay?” Conner asked awkwardly below him.

Right he had made it to Clark’s apartment.  

And Clark and Conner found him.  They found him and took care of him.

He was safe.

Dick must have fallen asleep without notice again.  Dozed off the moment Conner sat with him on the couch.  A distant memory of him watching Clark whisper hushly over Justice League coms with Bruce came to mind.  Probably slumped against Conner, and the two Kryptonians had smartly chosen not to move him, or wake him.  Likely unsure of what reaction that was going to get them.

The acrobat scrambled back away from his friend. 

He lost his balance in his rush and fell back as the back of his knees hit the coffee table behind him.  Clumsily he rolled over the table with the fall.  Ungracefully landing in a crouch on the other side.

Conner was up from the couch and moving over to him in a second.  Clark jumped back to whoever was on the phone with him.

“Sorry,”  Dick apologized as he moved to stand.  

His muscles all deciding to protest at that very moment.  He winced as he braced himself against Clark’s coffee table.

“It’s fine.”  Conner returned.  “In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have reached out to touch you, until you calmed down a bit.”  The clone continued easily as he helped pull Dick to his feet.  He gave Dick a small, slightly uncertain smile, when the younger looked up at him. “You’re still really jumpy.”

Dick hummed in reply.  Jumpy was putting it lightly.

“You okay?”

“Just a little sore.”  Dick replied absently.  “What time is it?”

“Like nine o’clock.”  Conner answered, as he watched Dick closely.  Dick turned wildly to clock, finding Conner’s words to be true. He turned back to Conner with wide eyes. “You crashed shortly after we came out here last night.  Been asleep ever since.”

Dick couldn’t remember the the last time he sleep so long in one night. That had to be a good eight to nine hours of solid sleep. It definitely had to be more than eight months ago.  Probably the last time he was sick in the Manor.

He felt... _ rested _ .  Still tired.  Still exhausted beyond a point he ever thought he could be without falling over asleep.  He had in no way made a dent in the lack of sleep he still needed to make up for.  But definitely rested.

And for a phone to be the thing to wake him up.  Not Clark waking up and moving around, or Conner shifting ever so slightly.  Or Clark cooking breakfast, because Dick could smell eggs and bacon in the air.  But a ringing phone.

Dick really had felt save and secure.

“Probably because I haven’t slept been sleeping too much.” Dick stated as he stretched.

He doesn’t mind letting that fact slip.  Clark and Conner had already probably figured that part out just by looking at him.  Nor would they find it too unusual, since Batman and Robin could function on minimal hours of sleep for some time.  

Conner hummed absently.

Dick rolls his eyes in his usual manner at the clone he pushed by.  

An attempt to not let things linger.  Make it seem like Dick is still normal and not been through something that has him closed off and jumpy.  Or spiraling into a panic at a mere question of what happens. That it’s just minor blimp of something that was easing away.

The younger made his way to the kitchen airly.  Clark shoved a plate with a small helping of eggs, fruit, and bacon at Dick.  The reporter’s smile didn’t hide the look of concern he had on his face when Dick took the plate.  Before loudly saying ‘No Lois, it’s fine,’ into his phone as he turned away from Dick.

Dick ate his food, doing his best to ignore the looks Conner and Clark kept give him.  Or the fact that they were having a conversation a decibel below his hearing range.

* * *

“You sure you’re okay, Dick?”  Conner asked in a hushed down.

The young teen was not okay in the slightest. 

He hadn’t been since the three of them had left Clark’s apartment for the Zeta beams twenty minutes ago. Something that would have taken five minutes tops to reach if they flew there like Clark suggested.  But Dick had seized up at the suggested, that Clark and Conner agreed to go by ground to calm him down.

Not that it was helping Dick relax any.

He kept scanning the streets trying to notice a Shadow or mercenary before they noticed him.  Wither it was by familiar face, or dangerous posture, he wasn’t going to chance it.  Even if Clark gave him a change of clothes, and a pair of sunglasses.  He was too paranoid not to be careful.  His luck over the past months had not given him any sense of confidence.

His constantly look at but Clark and Conner on edge.  Both walking just a little broader than normal.  Turning to look where Dick did when his gaze lingered too long.  And he hadn’t missed Clark glancing around with his x-ray vision every so often.  Like he would find exactly why Dick was looking around all the time.

Dick turned to the clone.  Finding Conner’s cold eyes fixed on him.

“Yeah,” Dick lied easily. He flexed his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he still had.  Doing his best to ease the tingling in his fingers some.  It wasn’t helping much.  “Just like I have been the last ten times you asked.”

“It’s just…” Conner trailed off, glancing to Clark for  _ something _ .

“Just what, Con?”  Dick asked pleasantly.

“You’re heart rate hasn’t decreased.”  Conner leaned in to whisper to Dick.  He frowned down at the younger teen with a look of confusion, and a look to Clark didn’t help that shift away.  “You seem...anxious?”

“I mean, I guess I’m a little nervous.”  Dick shrugged out.  “B and I didn’t exactly part of the best of terms.”

There was some honestly to that statement.

He was nervous about seeing Bruce again.  For a handful of different reasons.  One clearly being their argument before he left.  There is still a raw hurt and anger that hung in his gut, and it was not mixing well the fact that Bruce has a  _ new _ Robin.  There was no doubt in his mind that things would get heated.

Another was the fact that he had been gone so long with no contact.  Now he was coming back...looking like he was.  Underweight, exhausted, and violently reacting touches in a panicked state.  Not to mention beaten and battered in more ways than one.  Dick knew Bruce well enough to know his worry and anger were not going to mix well.  Nor would it translate to actual words without some stumbling around.

And then there were others Dick didn’t really want to think about.  In favor of keeping breakfast in his stomach, and Clark off his back for just a little longer.

Conner seemed to buy that as a valid reason, as he made a soft sound and nodded.  But Dick still sees Clark frown at him out of the corner of his eye.

A silence fell over them quickly as they walked.  Something Dick was for once thankful for as they come to stop at a crosswalk.  

Dick glances around at everyone at the street corner.  Faking a more casual boredness to it as he did so.  Something that was a lot easier than to do on a crowned street corner than walking along with two Kryptonians sending out stay away vibes at everyone that so much as looked at him funny.

They were five blocks away from the Zeta tube.  Ten more minutes of walking at the most.  Then he would be in the Cave, and then he would have done it.  Finally gotten to where they wouldn’t dare think to look for him.  And he could figure out his next course of action from there.

Dick let the tension in his shoulders release just a bit.  Relaxed his guard just enough to feel the tingling leave his fingers.  Let himself take a small breath of relief as his heart seemed to calm down some as well.

“One medium black coffee,” A voice somewhere behind Dick ordered out.

The acrobat’s blood ran cold at the sound.

Slowly he turned, carefully leaning and weaving to find the source.  Doing his best to stay hidden in the crowd waiting to cross the street, and still see out.

A small coffee cart was just a few yards away.  Not terribly busy at all, only a line of like three people.  At the front a tall older man with a muscular build.  His long white hair pulled back into a slim ponytail.  The black band of his eyepatch contrasting against it. 

Dick swallowed thickly as the man turned just enough for him to see his face more.

_ Slade. _

No doubt about it.

_ Not good.  _ Really _ not good. _

He was screwed.  

There tingling in the back of his skull ignited sharply, as Dick started to feel the panic in start to set in again.  Felt his heart start to hammer against his chest, and breathing hitch.  Nothing noticeable about it to everyone normal around him, or nothing they couldn’t account to nevres if they noticed.

Turning slightly, Dick glanced at Clark and Conner’s backs, carefully keeping the sight of Slade in the corner of his eye.  So far it didn’t seem like the two taken notice just yet.  But it would only be a matter of time before they noticed.

Or before Slade did.

Dick turned quickly, making himself scarce from the situation. 

And he didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want to go into too much detail, because I want to everything to kind of be a secret for both the other characters and the readers. But it's also not terribly hard to guess the direction I am going.
> 
> Also, I sort of combined some versions of Dick going from Robin to Nightwing, because I can, and we don't know exactly want happened in Justice. But also I feel like the way I did, it could be read as Batman firing him and Dick kind of being teenager about it, like _Fine_
> 
> I am not sure when the next installment of this series will happen...since it is a series of one-shots, updates will be more erratic and inconsistent. So I am when I will see again for this (knowing me like next week but don't hold me to it)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed.


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